


A Warm Bath for Morse

by essexmermaid



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Endeavour Morse Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parental Fred Thursday, Protective Fred Thursday, ThursDAD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 02:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essexmermaid/pseuds/essexmermaid
Summary: Morse falls in freezing river and needs a warm bath after Thursday pulls him out





	1. Morse is Chilled

Detective Chief Inspector Fred Thursday cursed the icy cold water as he waded up to his ankles in the river. Morse was on his hands and knees in the water, struggling to get out, so Thursday grabbed two good handfuls of the back of Morse’s jacket and hauled the lad bodily from the water. Morse scrambled up the river bank then dropped in a sodden heap, gasping for air.

“Alright, lad, you’re alright now, take your time,” urged Thursday, falling to his knees beside his shivering Sergeant.

Morse was wet through having tumbled into the river chasing a suspect who had fled the pursuing police officers and swum to the other side. Thursday took off his overcoat and laid it over his shaking shoulders. He rubbed the young man’s back as Morse retched up a bellyful of muddy river water. Once again, Thursday had had to rescue his reckless bagman. And once again, Thursday himself had suffered the consequences of Morse’s impetuous behaviour.

“That’s it, cough it up now, breathe slowly, that’s better,” Thursday continued calmly, all the while his sharp mind was processing the situation. He saw that Morse needed urgent attention before his skinny frame froze completely.

Wearily Thursday pulled Morse to his feet and guided his stumbling steps back to the Jag. In the car Thursday turned on the heater full blast then radioed for backup to seek out and arrest the suspect who had temporarily given them the slip. He tucked his coat in around Morse whose teeth were now chattering uncontrollably.

“Right then, we’re going home to warm you up, “ decided Thursday.  
Morse, unable to reply coherently, rolled his eyes towards the river.  
“He won’t get far soaked to the skin like that!” scoffed Thursday. “Uniform will pick him up soon enough. Won’t be hard to miss, eh?”

By the time they had driven to Thursday’s house, Morse was slumped in the seat, his whole body shaking. He was finding it difficult to concentrate, the cold numbing his brain. It was working its way into his bones, deadening his movements apart from the continuous, violent shivering.

Thursday leaned into the Jag after parking it, to pull Morse to his feet which felt to Morse like lead weights tripping him up. Instead of standing up straight, he all but collapsed against Thursday’s sturdy frame, clutching at him with hands that wouldn’t grip properly. He was more or less dragged to the door and pushed inside. 

“Oh, Fred!” exclaimed Mrs Thursday who met them in the hall, “what’s this?”  
“Fell in the river, silly sod,” tutted his governor, hanging up his hat with one hand and holding up Morse with the other.  
“He must be freezing!” she worried. “You, too, you’re wet through, both of you!” she added as she lifted Fred’s coat from Morse’s shoulders and helped Fred off with his jacket.  
“I’m alright, let’s get him warmed up first” huffed Thursday, anxious about his bagman.  
Win heard the worry in her husband’s voice, and read the concern on his face.  
“I’ll run a hot bath,” she reasoned, “then we’ll get a hot drink inside him.”  
Thursday nodded, grateful as ever that his stoic wife could deal with any emergency he presented to her.

Mrs Thursday slipped up to the bathroom while Fred tried to walk Morse up the stairs. Uncoordinated and exhausted, Morse could barely move his legs to tackle the steps. About halfway up, Fred grabbed him firmly round the middle and dipped his knees to hoist Morse onto his shoulder. By hanging onto the bannister and with sheer brute strength, Thursday carried Morse the rest of the way and deposited him in the tiny bathroom.

Morse sat on the closed seat of the toilet as Win fussed over running a hot bath. Fred began to yank off Morse’s clothes, having to grip the lad tightly to prevent him falling to the floor. His jacket and tie, then shirt, trousers and shoes fell in a wet pile. When Fred tried to pull Morse’s sodden vest over his head there was a brief panic while Morse found his face trapped in a cold reminder of the river, and thrashed about to escape.

“Alright, lad, alright,” soothed Fred. “Soon have you warmed up again.”

When he started to strip Morse of his underpants, Morse struggled against him, wary of the presence of Mrs Thursday in the room.

Amused at the young man’s modesty, Fred nodded to the door and Win took the hint and left them to it.

From outside the door, Win called, “I’ll be back in a while to collect those wet clothes.”  
“Alright, love, give us a minute,” replied Fred.  
“Now then, let’s get these off,” Fred continued, tugging off the last of Morse’s clothes, “and get you into that bath.”

Somehow, Fred manoeuvred Morse into the bath, all long limbs and awkward elbows. Morse sank gratefully into the hot water, his shivering body desperate for warmth.

Fred stepped back, relieved at getting Morse this far.

“Now don’t go drowning in the bathtub,” Fred cautioned, “not after all the bother I’ve gone to, to haul you out of that river!”

Morse smiled wanly, more of a grimace, and Fred smiled weakly back. He was dog tired, truth be told, and could do with a hot bath himself. Content that Morse was comfortable, Fred could now look to himself, and turned to leave the bathroom to get out his own wet clothes.

It had been another long night, with Morse getting himself into trouble yet again, and Thursday paying the price for backing him up. But no matter what mad situations Morse fell into, Thursday would always be there for him, to pick up the pieces and set him back on his feet. Thursday was far too fond of the lad to ever consider letting him struggle by himself, even if he did drag Thursday into some unfortunate encounters, it was worth it to keep his young lad safe.


	2. Thursday Warms Him Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morse recovers from his fall in the icy river as Thursday warms him up

Soaking in the bath for twenty minutes, Morse was recovering from a bone deep chill after falling in the icy river.

When he returned to the bathroom, Fred found Morse dozing in the bath, no longer shivering, the small room thick with steam. Morse startled awake, trying to cover his modesty with a flannel. Fred smiled and flapped a hand at him to relax. Fred had changed into a warm dry vest and pyjamas, and wore a thick woollen dressing gown stoutly tied at the waist. He had downed a very large whiskey and handed Morse a half full glass of his own. He had to hold it to Morse’s lips to prevent him spilling it all over the place. His hands around Morse’s were warm and firm, his breath smelled of hot whiskey, and his ruddy cheeks glowed with an inner warmth.

Thursday sat heavily on the toilet seat and Morse noticed his bare feet. Startled again by Mrs Thursday rejoining them, Morse turned his head away pretending to be asleep. Mrs Thursday placed a steaming bowl on the floor in front of her husband.

“Oh, Fred! Your feet are freezing cold!” exclaimed Win, on her knees, lifting Fred’s feet into the basin of hot water.  
“Aaaah!” he sighed in pleasure as the feeling began to return to his toes.  
“And you’ve ruined a perfectly good pair of shoes,” she continued, “what were you thinking?”  
Fred shrugged his eyebrows at her.  
“Had to help him out of the water,” he reasoned. “Couldn’t leave the lad to freeze to death, could I?”

She glanced over at Morse, taking him to be asleep.  
“You should know better, at your age, running around like that,” she admonished Fred. “You promised me you’d be more careful after..after…” she trailed off, not wanting to put words to the dark days after he’d been shot in the chest.  
“I do try, love,” he said softly, looking earnestly into her face. “But sometimes things just happen.”  
“You’re not as young as you were,” she complained. “You need to be taking it easy, the doctor said.”  
“I will, love,” he offered, taking her face in his large, warm hands.  
“Promise?”  
“Promise!” he replied, gently kissing her before letting her go.  
“Oh, Fred!” she sighed. “I do worry about you, you know.”

Win hauled herself to her feet by leaning on her husband’s knees, her own creaking painfully as she straightened up. Fred held onto her arm to steady her and took the opportunity to slip his arm around her waist and pull her to him.

“What would I do without you?” he asked softly, melting her heart with his slow smile.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she laughed, and bent to kiss him again as his arm around her tightened.  
“Might have to warm me up later,” he growled, the smile spreading to a suggestive grin.  
“Oh, Fred!” she shushed, pulling away, but still laughing, “I don’t want you running a temperature!”

Fred watched as his wife slipped out and closed the door behind her. He sat contentedly, paddling his feet playfully in the warm water and chuckling to himself.

Morse lay prone in the bath, shocked at the conversation he’d overheard. It wasn’t that the Thursdays were so obviously fond of each other, although to a young man like him it was inconceivable that an old married couple should still fancy one another. It was the sudden realisation that by his own recklessness he had led his governor into danger.

Morse had never paid any regard to his own safety, putting himself in the line of fire time and again. He truly believed it was worth his own pain and injury to get the results he demanded of himself. 

However much the Inspector scolded him, Morse continued to take terrifying physical risks with his own life. What he had not appreciated was that he in turn was putting Thursday at risk, for Thursday would never leave him to fight alone. Thursday was always there to back him up, no matter how dangerous or difficult the situation. And Thursday often suffered as a result.

Morse sank a little lower in the water, ashamed that he had never considered his governor’s safety in all of his wild escapades. The Old Man was getting on in years, recovering from a near fatal shooting and should be taking it easy behind a desk, not following Morse into scrapes like this.

Morse sighed with guilt and belated self recrimination.

Mrs Thursday appeared again with an armful of towels and dry clothes.  
“There’s some of Sam’s things here and I’ve made up the bed in Sam’s room,” she explained. “Do you need a hand?” she asked, tilting her head towards the figure slumped in the bath.  
“No, no, we’ll manage!” Thursday reassured her, anxious to save Morse any further embarrassment.

Fred swung his feet out of the bowl while Win fussed over him, making sure his feet were dried carefully, and put on his socks and slippers before he shooed her out of the bathroom.

“Right then!” declared Thursday to Morse, “let’s be havin’ you!”

Reluctantly, Morse pulled the plug on the cooling bath water and struggled to sit up. Thursday stood over him, trying to figure out the best purchase he could get on his slippery Sergeant, before shoving his arms under Morse’s armpits and bodily hauling him up. Weakly Morse managed to sit on the edge of the bath and swing his legs over the side. Morse ducked his head into Thursday’s breast and hung onto him clumsily as Thursday began to vigorously towel the lad dry. 

As he emerged from the towel, Morse smiled apologetically up at him.  
“‘Mmm’ssssorry!” Morse stuttered, struggling to speak clearly.  
“What’s that for?” asked Fred gravely.  
“Sorry I got you into this mess,” added Morse contritely.  
Thursday looked down at Morse fondly and took his chin in his hand.  
“I’ll live,” he joked, and patted Morse’s cheek.  
“I didn’t think..”  
“You never do, do you,” chided Fred gently, “haring off before you think straight. Save us both a lot of bother if you’d just wait a moment, think things through.”  
Morse nodded.  
“Sorry, Sir,” he said again, with a woeful smile that tugged at Fred’s poor heart.

Fred wrapped his big hand round the back of Morse’s head and pulled him firmly against his woollen front. He rubbed his strong fingers through Morse’s unruly curls in an effort to comb them into some sort of order. It took Fred a long minute to choke back the lump in his throat.

“No need to apologise, son,” he croaked. “Line of duty. Doesn’t always go as well as you’d hoped. You’re a brave lad, and I’m proud of you.”

Shakily Morse got to his feet and Thursday wrapped the towel around his waist.

“You can dry your bits yourself!” announced Thursday to lighten the mood, amused at the young man’s shyness at being naked in front of him. Fred, like many of his generation in the war, had seen too many naked soldiers to let it bother him.

Fred held out a pair of underpants for Morse to step into. Mortified, Morse reluctantly dropped the towel and held out a shivering foot. As Morse stepped into the pants, he clung onto Fred as his hands were still too shaky to dress himself. Fred jammed his thumbs inside the waistband and tugged the back of the pants up over Morse’s bottom. Then straightening up, he flattened his hand and ran it round the front of the pants to neatly tuck in Morse’s todger.

Morse was startled by the brush of Fred’s knuckles against his cock, nudging it into place.

Fred turned away quickly to hide an amused smile at the young lad’s reaction. He reached for a soft cotton T-shirt and rolled it up, as you would do for a small child, so Morse could thread his long limbs into it and smoothed the soft shirt tenderly down Morse’s back and chest. He resisted the temptation to tease Morse further by tucking the T-shirt into his pants, smiling to himself at Morse’s skittishness.

Morse slung his arms around Fred’s neck in an effort to stay upright so Fred wrapped his strong arms round Morse’s skinny frame to hold him close. They swayed together for a moment as if in a strange, intimate dance while Morse got his balance, his damp head resting on Fred’s shoulder. Morse pressed needily into the fierce heat radiating from Fred’s solid bulk. Recognising Morse’s vulnerability, Fred held him close until Morse was able to push himself away.

“Alright, lad?” asked Fred quietly.  
“Mmm, yes, think so,” admitted Morse after thinking about it carefully.

Then Fred helped him into a pair of pyjama trousers and socks, and Morse was ready for bed.

Stiff legged, Morse stumbled from the bathroom into Sam’s bedroom. Fred came after him to hold back the covers while Morse gratefully curled around a hot water bottle, and then tucked him in.

Fred sat for a long time watching Morse drop off to sleep, stroking Morse’s thick curls as the lad was too tired to protest against being petted. He felt so protective of this impulsive young man, regretting the harm he came to, but knowing he would never want to hold him back. Days like these, however, Fred realised he would not be able to keep up with Morse for much longer. And then who would look out for this brave, reckless officer of the law who flung himself so carelessly into the path of danger? 

Fred could only look on and worry and hope that soon Morse would find himself another officer who cared about him as much as his governor did, for Fred truly loved this young man. But until he did, Fred Thursday would be there for Morse and do his utmost to keep him safe from harm.

**Author's Note:**

> Love these two characters, they bring out the best in one another! 
> 
> Let me know what you think? Comments please!?


End file.
